


Our Bodies Break Light

by astriddanes



Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blizzard did Yrel dirty so, F/F, Fix-It, Let Yrel Live and Be Gay, Lost Love, Redemption, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 05:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astriddanes/pseuds/astriddanes
Summary: It's been two years of war against the Burning Legion on Azeroth, but far longer on Draenor. And time changes people. When Liadrin hears of what Yrel has done, she cannot rest until she sees what has become of her love for herself. On Draenor, a hundred years have passed, and the person Liadrin knew has changed, but the past still haunts Yrel enough to make her willing to listen to Liadrin... Though the Light demands differently.(A fix-it fic following the atrocious turn of what happens in the Mag'har orc recruitment scenario.)





	Our Bodies Break Light

**Author's Note:**

> _Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.  
>  These, our bodies, possessed by light.  
> Tell me we’ll never get used to it._  
> \-- Scheherazade, by Richard Siken

Liadrin felt the sweat dripping down her back, a cool trail in the night chill. Straddling Yrel’s thigh, she leaned back and let the friction between her legs become too much, too intense. She bit back a scream and threw her head back, shuddering, her thighs shaking. Yrel did not let her go that easily though, her fingers still moving against Liadrin’s clit, sliding into her, pressing and pushing. Yrel put an arm around Liadrin’s waist and leaned her forehead against Liadrin’s shoulder, taking care not to put the sharp point of her curved horn against anything soft and tender.

 

”One moment, please,” Liadrin pleaded, curling her fingers in Yrel’s soft hair.

 

”Of course.” Yrel’s breath was so warm against her chest, and she punctuated her words with a light kiss against the chest. It almost made Liadrin take it back and beg for more. 

 

Liadrin rested her chin on top of Yrel’s head, burying her nose in the hair. She would miss this scent, of frostweed and starflower, so specific to Yrel. ”What will you miss about me?”

 

”Don’t ask.”

 

”Indulge me.”

 

Yrel dragged her teeth across Liadrin’s skin, frustrated, but gave in nonetheless. ”It’s… I don’t know how to describe it, but the Light feels balanced near you. Not too bright. Not too far away. The perfect equilibrium.” 

 

”Was it too much before?”

 

”No.” Yrel sighed, her tongue darting out as she licked her lips and the tip of it touching Liadrin. ”Yes. But it got better. I was tested and I endured.”

 

”I know the feeling.”

 

”Is that what you want to spend the night doing? Talking?” 

 

”No,” Liadrin relented, and Yrel caught her lips in a kiss. She would miss this too. The kisses, how they felt, how at first Yrel always tasted of herself, of the cold teas she drank and the fruits she ate, but then as the nights went on she tasted more and more familiar. 

 

She would miss the way Yrel made her feel.

 

* * *

 

 

Liadrin read the report over and over, trying to understand what she was reading. The words did not make sense to her, but she knew they were true, written and signed by Eitrigg. They just did not get through. 

 

_During the mission to Draenor, we found that much had changed. The world had begun crumbling, just as the chrono-mages predicted when investigating it during our tour there two years ago. It was never made to last – ”a pocket of time”, or some other time nonsense. Time moves differently there, and so many more years had passed than on our world._

 

It had been delivered by courier from Orgrimmar, sealed with an unsigned note. _”I believe this is relevant to you.”_

 

Her faith had been shaken many times in her life – when the Sunwell fell, when the Blood Knights subjugated a naaru, when Kael’thas betrayed the sin’dorei – but this was different. It felt like something inside her was collapsing, taking all her strength and composure with it.

 

_Above all, we found that the peace we had left the people there with had collapsed. High Exarch Yrel had started a holy war upon the orcs. She had turned into a zealot driving a crusade against her former allies._

 

Liadrin covered her mouth with her hand, the report falling to the ground. The streets of Silvermoon were almost always empty now, many having chosen to move already before the forces of the Alliance descended upon the city. No one was there to witness her upwelling of grief. 

 

She just didn’t understand. What had gone wrong?

 

_High Exarch Yrel was forcing the light upon orcs, infusing them with it – almost always against their will._

 

There had not been time to go back in the last two years. So many duties, so many fronts of war, and the constant pressures… She had thought of Yrel so often, and felt the sting of guilt at not being able to find time to visit. Of course she had known of the time theories, the bronze dragons had spoken of it, but she had not thought two years would translate into so much time on the other side. She had not thought their world was so utterly doomed.

 

_The connection has been severed again. Re-opening it is not recommended._

 

She needed to try. It felt imperative. So many questions, and so much time, and above all her heart ached – worse than it had ached the last two years, worse than when she had walked on Argus’ ruined surface and seen the crumbling cities and thought of Yrel. And yet she had not gone back.

 

Now she had to. Cost what it wanted. Anything else, such as ignorance and inaction, would haunt her forever. 

 

* * *

 

 

A hand at the back of Liadrin’s neck guided her, Yrel’s fingers tangled in Liadrin’s hair. Liadrin took her time, kissing her way down the stomach, her tongue tracing the old scar tissue and hands holding on to Yrel’s hips. She was torn between dragging the moment out, savoring the neediness and the small moans spilling from Yrel’s lips.

 

Her tongue drifted further south, over the venus mound and along the labia. Moving one hand down from the hips, she slid a finger inside Yrel, curving it slightly and laughing when Yrel drew in a sharp breath.

 

”You can be so cruel,” Yrel said, trying to angle herself so that Liadrin would touch the spot she wanted. But Liadrin knew this would come, it always did with her, so she kept her tongue just out of reach.

 

”You can be so impatient,” Liadrin countered, her feather-light fingers skimming across Yrel’s blue skin. She decided she did not want to drag it out: all they had left was this night. She needed to do something, anything, to make sure she remembered it. 

 

Plunging her fingers into Yrel, she pressed her tongue in between the labia and traced the tongue tip along the hood of the clit. Yrel’s fingers gripped Liadrin’s hair tighter, her thighs pressing against the sides of Liadrin’s face. If she would die tonight with her head crushed between Yrel’s thighs, Liadrin would not mind that much. At least it’d be one iconic way to go.

 

She brought her lips up to the clitoris, sucking gently. Above her, Yrel had begun pleading, wanting more, wanting to be brought over the edge, wanting Liadrin to do so many things to her. Liadrin wished she had time for it all.

 

Yrel’s legs faltered as she came close, and Liadrin followed as she sank down on the ground and laid down on her back, never once breaking off touching Yrel. She made sure to get Yrel over the brink, a strangled cry and twitching followed hot on its heels. 

 

Liadrin sat up and licked her fingers clean as she watched Yrel. The draenei had her eyes closed, lips parted, chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, and the inside of her thighs gleamed with wetness, and she was so beautiful. Liadrin wanted to imprint this image of Yrel into her memories, to keep close to her heart forever.

 

* * *

 

 

Liadrin needed to call in some favors to find her way back, and where else to go but to Oculeth, hoping he would keep the entire thing secret. She found him at the center of the teleportation network set-up in Orgrimmar, and beckoned him aside. 

 

”I have something to ask of you,” she said in a hushed voice.

 

Oculeth’s ears twitched. ”Oh?”

 

She held up the report. ”You helped them go back to this place. I need you to send me back to the same spot. Can you do it?”

 

”Right to business. Hmm. Is this official business, on the record?”

 

Liadrin shook her head. ”Do not breathe word of this to anyone.”

 

Oculeth clapped his hands together, excited. ”Great! Then I will be able to do this. You see, the bronze drakeslet me borrow a chronal shard to send the expedition through. And well, they haven’t come to take it back, but it still has some power left in it. However, I would need something to enhance it, to make sure it can take you all the way there. Do you have something from then I could use?”

 

Liadrin was quiet for a moment, then loosened the knot at the back of her neck, pulling up the pendant from under her shirt. ”You can use this.”

 

He took it, studying it with great interest. ”Yes, yes. Excellent. This will do just fine, I can feel the chronal anomality of it already. Fascinating…” He cleared his throat, trying to keep on topic. ”I can send you through for a limited time. Then it will forcibly pull you back here.”

 

”How long?”

 

”The chrono-mages wrote an interesting article about it, I’m not sure if you are inclined to read such things? Amazing work they’re doing, really.”

 

”Yes?”

 

”Ah, well, yes. From what one of the mages that went through observed, time there seems to be speeding up as the world pulls closer to its extinction event. I am not sure anymore. It essentially was created as a pocket in time, an off-shoot of this timeline. Things are coming undone there at a rapid pace. I would estimate an hour or two of this time is all you need.”

 

”I am not sure it will be enough.”

 

Oculeth sighed. ”Let me re-phrase: it is all the power left in the crystal. And it should buy you a week, two, possibly a month. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

 

Liadrin did not, not really, but she felt sure the Light would see her through whatever awaited her on the other side. She had to believe, because not doing so was far more terrifying. She had to trust in the Light to help her reach through to Yrel. To at least see and understand what had happened.

 

Above all else, she owed it to Yrel.

 

”The Light guides me,” Liadrin said, and Oculeth shifted uneasily.

 

”Ah, yes, the Light. I sure hope you have some insurance on that faith.” When his joke did not land, he quickly moved on. ”I need a convergence point. As I understand it, it is essentially a younger copy of the place Azeroth is linked to – Outland, I believe you call it?”

 

Liadrin did not think long before the answer came to her. ”The temple of Karabor. It stands in both worlds.”

 

* * *

 

 

Liadrin straddled across Yrel’s back, placing the lacquered box between her shoulder-blades. She tugged gently at Yrel’s hair and the draenei gave in, turning her head to look back at Liadrin.

 

”What are you doing?”

 

”A gift.” She opened the box and picked up the fine filigree horn ornaments – light and delicate, but strong enough to not break, inlaid with exquisite small stones. She slipped one onto the left horn and locked it in place. It fit, perfectly. A smaller one stopped further out and closed with the same preciseness. She repeated it on the other horn.

 

”These decorations are hardly fit for battle,” Yrel said, reaching her hands up to touch them. 

 

Liadrin pushed her hands away as she added the final touch: light chains adorned with pearls connection each piece to its twin on the horns. ”Do you expect war again?” Liadrin connected the final chain. ”This makes you look regal. Like a leader. You can wear this chain on its own, around your wrist or horn base. Each piece is individual, and each piece connects with the others. Each its own perfection.” 

 

Yrel closed her eyes, moving her head from side to side. ”I like the noise it makes.” 

 

”There were times, long ago, when I was a priestess. I was adorned in the splendor of Quel’thalas, always, for I was the protector of its spirit, its soul and heart. We were beautiful then. Since, there has been no time for adornments. War makes you practical.” Liadrin ran her finger along Yrel’s horns, feeling the ridges. ”To be able to live in peace… I envy you.”

 

Yrel remained quiet, gazing out over the valley beneath them, the soft dim lights of the temple of Karabor gleaming in the distance behind the swell of trees.

 

* * *

 

 

In front of the Black Temple, little had changed. True, the demons were gone, but the state of disrepair remained. A few Ashtongue were in front, eyeing Liadrin and Oculeth wearily, but made no move to approach them. Just as well.

 

Liadrin paced around Oculeth as he drew up runes on the ground, erasing them and re-drawing again slightly different. When he finished a symbol it began to glow, and Oculeth nodded to himself. ”Yes… Yes this is it. This will work. Roll up your sleeve please.”

 

”What?”

 

”It’s for the spell.”

 

She did as told, presenting her lower arm to him as he measured her skin with his fingertips, then pinched them together. A small shape, similar to the one on the ground, glowed briefly before fading into her skin, looking like nothing more than an old scar.

 

”There. This anchor will pull you back when the time is up. You should feel it tingle a little before it is time, so to prepare yourself.”

 

”Noted,” Liadrin said.

 

Oculeth motioned at the circle, and she took a cautious step into it. He began channeling arcane energy between his hands, building it up, and she felt it charging the air around her, crackling and static. ”Any last words?” he asked, half-joking. 

 

Liadrin checked her sword and shield, holding them both at the ready. ”If I do not make it back, tell the warchief I perished at sea.”

 

He nodded, and then let loose the power between his hands, a bright flash and swell of heat surrounding her – and then Outland was gone, and she was on Draenor.

 

The first thing Liadrin noticed on the other side was that the night sky over Shadowmoon Valley had dimmed significantly. Stars were missing. Whole constellations were gone. And the two moons had lost their bright luminance.

 

Meanwhile, the temple of Karabor cast a shadow over the entire valley, the bright light emanating from it almost as intense as a sun. The grass on the ground was burned from the light, the earth beneath Liadrin’s feet so dry it cracked and crumbled.

 

The whole place felt dying. There was truly no other word for it.

 

* * *

 

Liadrin had drifted off to sleep for a moment, exhausted and warm from the night’s activities, but her ears picked up a noise of armor and chainmail that jerked her awake. She had been on edge like this for two decades now, each night a light sleep where she always kept her blade near the bed. Instinctively she reached for the sword’s hilt but relaxed when she saw Yrel.

 

”What are you doing?” Liadrin asked, rolling over to her side to look at Yrel who sat with Liadrin’s armor in her lap.

 

Yrel glanced at her, smiling. ”Fixing some dents, buffing out some scruffs, giving it a polish. Figured I’d do something while you slept.”

 

Liadrin felt incredibly touched at the gesture, biting the inside of her cheek not to smile too big. ”You don’t have to.”

 

Yrel shrugged it off. ”It is nothing.” She nodded towards a small folded cloth on the bedroll next to Liadrin. ”I wanted to get you something too, but I feel it is hardly anything compared to what you gave me.”

 

Picking the small bundle up carefully, Liadrin unwrapped the folded piece and picked up a small purple gem, uneven in shape, about the length of her palm. Yrel had made a small hole at the top and run a thin leather cord through it, long enough to be a necklace.

 

”It is a chipped decoration from my amor. It fell off months ago but I…” Yrel paused, looking briefly embarrassed. ”It made it look rugged. As if I had fought far more battles than I have. And now the exarchs have commissioned for me to get a new set of amor, one far more suited for ceremony and everyday.”

 

”I adore it,” Liadrin said, gathering her hair up in a loose bun before she tied the piece around her neck, the gem coming to rest between her breasts. ”I will wear it under my armor, always.”

 

Yrel remained quiet, focused on polishing Liadrin’s armor. She would do this whenever the thought of Liadrin leaving became too much for her – withdraw into some productive task, hoping no one would notice. As if Liadrin did not know her by now.

 

”I wish I could say when exactly I will come back…” Liadrin began.

 

Yrel sighed. ”It is fine. I understand. You must go, you must protect your home. I cannot hold that against you, and truly, I wish I could come with. But I have to rebuild. I have to help make a future for all here.”

 

Liadrin came over to Yrel, kissing the top of her head, then the back of her neck. ”I will miss you,” she whispered. ”Never doubt it.”

 

* * *

 

As Liadrin approached Karabor, the guards drew up a defensive line by the stairwell, their white amor and weapons glowing with a blinding light.

 

”Surrender, off-worlder!” one of them screamed at her but she stood defiant, shield drawn.

 

”I surrender to Yrel alone!” Liadrin replied. The leader of them uttered a word a hail of golden arrows shot at her, but she called upon the Light to protect her from harm and all arrows fell the ground around her, not one scratching her armor. ”I wish to see Yrel before I lay down my arms!”

 

They whispered amongst themselves, and she saw one of them teleporting away. Then they were quiet, but their weapons drawn and aimed at her, though not attacking at least. She stood her ground as she waited, holding the shield with the Silvermoon crest up.

 

A horn sounded in the distance, and on top of the stairs a bright light emerged. A massive elekk, adorned in gold and platinum, descended the steps slowly, and atop it… She was bathed in light, her eyes glowing golden and her armor a splendid white. She looked regal. She looked terrifying.

 

The line of defense bowed as Yrel approached, parting to let her through. Yrel remained on her elekk, but stopped a few paces from Liadrin, looking down at her. ”Lady Liadrin… It has been some time.” Yrel’s voice sounded different. Deeper. Unnerving. ”Have you come to join the true path of the Light?”

 

”I have come to see you.” Liadrin threw down her shield and stabbed Quel’delar into the ground, before she took a few steps towards Yrel. Behind her, rangers readied their weapons, but Yrel held up her hand and made them lower it. Yrel dismounted her elekk, beckoning Liadrin closer.

 

”Then come. I am here, as I have always been.” There was an edge to Yrel’s voice that made Liadrin feel stung. She was as beautiful as before, but changed – the light had altered her like it had the Lightforged draenei. Her skin was traced with golden light runes, and a symbol glowed constant at her forehead. Her horns were longer, but still adorned with the jewelry Liadrin had given her.

 

”What have you done?” Liadrin whispered when she came close, looking at Yrel. ”What have you warped the Light into?”

 

”You have been gone for a hundred years, and yet you feel the right to judge me?” Yrel’s lips were pulled in a tight line, her eyes cold and hard. She put her hand on the back of Liadrin’s neck, and Liadrin closed her eyes, knowing Yrel would not feel the soft leather knot of her gifted necklace there. ”I see you have not kept me close to heart, after all.”

 

”Yrel… I never stopped thinking about you.” She grasped Yrel’s wrist, forcing the draenei to look at her. ”I came here to save you.”

 

Yrel pulled herself free from Liadrin’s grasp, and two guards fell upon Liadrin, grabbing her arms. ”Bring her to the temple. She will know the true way of the Light. She will be redeemed.” Yrel leaned in close, grasping Liadrin’s chin. ” _I_ waited a hundred years,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. ”Nobody came to save us this time around. So we have saved ourselves.”

 

”My love…”

 

Yrel put a finger over Liadrin’s lips. ”I did what I had to do, for my people.” She took a step back and a gag was placed over Liadrin’s mouth, muffling her protests. Yrel looked at her with pity and anger, gesturing at the jewelry adorning her horns. ”I love you still. That is more than you can say to me. And because I love you, I will save you. I will redeem you.”

 

Yrel brought her hand to Liadrin’s forehead and the light in her felt as if it was on fire, surging, making Liadrin let out a scream before everything went black as her consciousness left her. The last thing she saw was Yrel, her smile just as sad as the day she left her two years ago. And then darkness enveloped her.


End file.
